Wicked Games
by Miss Sarah Louise
Summary: Spot Conlon had never been the jealous type. But then Rosie came back into his life. First time publisher, long time reader. A Spot Conlon/Original Character one-shot. I'm currently debating whether I should write more with this character, so please read and review!


Wicked Games

Spot Conlon was not the jealous type. Since he more often than not got what he wanted without any sort of struggle (except for the odd unfair fight), he'd never really found himself at a loss for anything, be it material goods or the loyalty of his boys. But tonight, as he watched Kid Blink whirl her across the floor, a stupid-looking grin on his face, he was greener than the Irish countryside. She was radiant; her gown was a deep shade of emerald, reflecting the green in her big hazel eyes. Though he couldn't hear over the loud music and rowdy boys, he could see her laughing and imagined the musical sound of her giggle.

Oh, how he hated Kid Blink in that moment! He clutched the glass in his hand so tightly it seemed as though it might shatter. He watched the pair like a hawk watches its prey; they strolled off the dance floor and towards the poker table at which he sat. He watched her every move closely, searching for clues to her intentions. Everything about her was winsome and lovely; the way her arm was looped through his, the way she moved a hair from his one good eye with such delicate fingers. Her lips brushed his cheek as she spoke; Spot nearly exploded from his seat, suddenly feeling the need for a smoke. The now-empty chair wobbled as he stalked outside without a word.

The combination of the cool night air and the tobacco had just begun to work its soothing magic when her giggle floated out to him on the night air. He groaned, hanging his head. _Perfect_.

"Blink, you are quite the dancer! Maybe you should have been up onstage instead of me!" she teased as they strolled out of the theater towards where the King was smoking. Spot still had not moved from his perch on the railing, and that wasn't about to change. The hand that held the cigarette trembled as he brought it to his lips.

"Oh no, Rose, I could never do that. You were radiant up there tonight." _Gag me._ Spot rolled his eyes. She giggled again, and he felt as though he was going to vomit. He looked at them out of the corner of his eye, unable to resist stealing a glance. She noticed, and a mischievous glint entered her eyes. "Kid, dear, would you mind leaving me out here with my dear friend Spot? I feel the cool air will do me some good. You'll go fetch us some drinks, yes?" He nodded vigorously, kissed her cheek, and left.

"Dontcha think you're laying it on a little thick there, Sullivan?" Spot asked coolly, smoke billowing from his nose and mouth. He smirked. "Poor Kid can't even think straight."

Rose considered him for a moment, hands on her hips, lips pursed slightly. She smiled and stepped out into the cool night. "Just because you're Irish does not mean that green is your color, Conlon." She leaned against the railing next to him, gazing out over the darkened street. She nudged him with her bare shoulder. "He _is_ cute though, isn't he?" He laughed.

"I ain't jealous of no one-eyed lummox," he scoffed, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. Nimble fingers plucked it from his grasp before it could reach its destination; Rose took a long drag of her own. Slithering down off the railing as she blew smoke rings, he had all the deadly grace of a jungle cat. It was her turn to laugh now, a musical sound.

"Whatever you say, Spotty," she teased, handing back the cigarette. Spot kept his eyes trained on the glowing orange end, refusing to fall into those hazel eyes. "Oh, come on, Spot, you know you're my favorite newsboy." She placed a hand tenderly on his shoulder, fingertips lightly brushing the skin just above his collar. Her spiced perfume, combined with the nearness of her, made it very difficult for him to refrain from kissing her like he knew Kid Blink never could. He shivered slightly and glanced up at her, blue eyes burning. A lop-sided smirk crossed his lips.

"Does Kid Blink know that?" he murmured, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She sighed; their lips were just inches from touching. "Speaking of things people should know… Does Jacky-boy know you still light up every so often?"

Mentioning her brother did the trick. She stepped back then, trailing her hand along his forearm and bringing it to rest on his hip. "Shhhhh, what he doesn't know won't hurt him." Again, the desire to kiss her overwhelmed his senses. She was toying with him, and he knew it. Rose Mae Sullivan had always been, and always would be, the only woman in all of New York City who could outplay Spot Conlon. He took her hand then, gently, and pressed it to his lips. Her eyes flashed; he could still affect her, too, it seemed.

"It was good to see ya again, Sullivan. Be sure to keep ya nose clean." He dropped her hand and stepped around her, sauntering back into the theatre with ease. She could outplay him, yes, but he was still the king. And he loved to remind her.


End file.
